He stood upon his little chair
to look out of the room
And saw the frost that glistened
With diamonds from the moon.
He saw the leaves that withered
On roses that were limp
A white enamel crusted
On petals that were pink.
He saw the hedgerow tied up
With gossamer in threads
And symmetry discarded
In geometric webs.
He saw the cloud reluctant
To come back or to go
And hoped it would come back to him
When it filled up with snow.